


Wonderful Irony

by foreveralice97



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-04-24 12:33:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14355615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foreveralice97/pseuds/foreveralice97
Summary: Soulmates, the most wonderful thing to happen to a person, could also be the worst.





	1. Wonderful Irony

He smiles brokenly even as his eyes water. A chill runs down his spine and he knows he needs to leave, he doesn't have long left to wait. The magic that his only blood once tried to beat out of him, the magic that let him save the wizarding world at the cost of himself is turning against him. His magic will be the thing to kill him, not his enemies, not his reckless Gryffindor behavior, not his saving people thing. A tear slips from the corner of his emerald eyes, eyes that on good days seemed to glow like a killing curse, eyes that are darkening by the second to a dull and muddy parody of green. "For what it's worth" he whispers because he feels if he speaks any louder his voice will betray that he is dying in more ways than one "I will always love you" he blinks and the tears that were gathering at the edge of his eyes slide down his face, a constant stream "E- even if you don't believe in forever, I-, I believed in forever with you" despite his efforts to keep his voice steady it wavers with the weight of emotion. No longer caring about keeping magic a closely guarded secret he pops away. He crashes to the ground as he lands, he's not sure where he is, he's too numb to care. _Soulmates_  he thinks bitterly _what a way to die_  and he knows, at that moment, that this will be his final death, even as the master of death, supposedly immortal, his magic will just destroy him over and over again if he revives. His black hair sways in the chill wind, he takes no notice, his body is already numb to physical feeling. 

He should have known from the start it was too good to be true, the instantaneous attraction between them the moment they met, but Harry didn't let that deter him. After several "one-night-stands" they were just lovers, and then partners. Life was good, life was too good. Maybe Harry should have known it was never going to last, but after six months of bliss and how the pair of them just seemed right, Harry asked Hermione about the concept of soulmates. They fit all known description of the phenomenon, and so Harry had filed the necessary forms and on their one-year anniversary of being more than a one-night-stand Harry started talking about the magical world, Harry was so excited to share this other world with his soulmate, and now he'd die knowing that it was too good to be true. He sighed and closed his eyes, everything hurt, he couldn't think of a worse hurt. His soulmate, his love, his world, his everything. Harry felt like a small child again, the freak in the cupboard, maybe that's why his soulmate was disgusted with him, maybe on some level his soulmate knew Harry was just a broken freak, he'd always be a broken freak, first the neglect, then a war, now his soulmate didn't want him anymore. A bitter loneliness fill harry's chest, his soulmate rejected him and now his magic would kill him for not being good enough. He wanted to laugh, love saved him only to kill him, what twisted sense of fate. He could feel his magic destroying its self, his heart slowing. He pondered what if's only for a second, what if he hadn't started the discussion with "We're soulmates" he wanted to laugh at his own stupidity but he couldn't feel his body anymore, just the bitter loneliness. He pictured his soulmates face, wanting to recall it one last time before he slipped into Death's waiting arms, strong prominent cheekbones, dark hair kept at a respectable length, a soft set of lips turned up in a cocky half-smile surrounded by short stubble. He couldn't picture his lover's eyes, it hurt too much, he couldn't recall them filled with love and light, only disgust. A man who knew nothing of the wizarding world, but met gods and acted like it was an everyday occurrence couldn't believe that soulmates could be real and as Harry's consciousness faded he thought what **_wonderful irony_**.


	2. Harsh Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry dreams, or does he?

He woke to lips pressed against his, eyes still closed feeling too heavy to lift them even a sliver to see the face above his. If not for the wet salty taste of the kiss Harry would assume it was Death kissing him, which was weird to think of. Why was he alive? He should be dead, wonderful irony and all that bullshit. Was he that much of a freak that he would have to suffer living knowing his soul is nothing more than damaged goods now? His soulmate rejected him, he felt his magic killing him. Why was he alive? The lips pulled away from his only to reappear on his forehead. Who was kissing him, why? His mind a whirlwind of questions he breathed deeply taking in the scent of familiar cologne. He sighed, it was weird to feel his lips part for the air to pass having recently lost all feeling in his body. He felt the lips jerk away from him and someone, the same person maybe calling his name asking him to open his eyes, the voice was muffled like Harry had cotton in his ears and couldn't distinguish the voice. His body felt like lead as he forced his eyes to sluggishly open enough to see who was with him. If he was being honest he was also doing it to not start false hope in his chest, someone else must wear the same cologne that was all. 

Dark eyes stared into his filled with panic and concern, dark eyes that Harry need not look past to know that face. Dark eyes that some time ago held only disgust. "Death should not give me such lovely dreams" Harry whispered his voice raw and raspy, his eyes still a parody of green sliding shut as the despair and loneliness filled his chest as if they were made to occupy the cavity. His magic didn't stir to punish him for failing as a soulmate and to Harry that was all the confirmation he needed that it was a dream, this was his afterlife. "If this is what Death has to offer its master why torment me with the image of a man, my love, my soul, knowing it was said man's words that would lead to my magic turning against me" he breathed deeply with a weak cough "or is this some deep desire bullshit? Beyond wanting to see my mother and father and be a happy family for once I crave my soulmate to have accepted me and listen that as soon as I realized what was going on I started the paperwork to be able to share this with him" tears built at the corner of his eyes and slipped away. He could still feel the false image hovering over him, its silence proving his point that it was a world of his own creation "I guess I shouldn't be surprised really. I'm still the same broken freak I've always been, life was too good to be true it had to be only a matter of time before he got tired of me, I'm glad I told him we're soulmates, even if his rejection killed me, I'd never be a good mate, just a broken mess of a freak, none of it matters now. I-, for what it's worth I suppose it's good I'm dead, now no one else will suffer or die because they are close to me, everyone will forget eventually and move on and be happy and I'll smile from my post beside Death and try to be happy for them, try to ignore the loneliness I feel setting in my bones" he coughed, his throat hurt something fierce. He opened his eyes to look at the dream ghost only to hesitate at the shocked despair in the dark eyes he loved so much. He frowned not understanding why this dreamed copy looked so miserable, fighting the lead feeling in the rest of his body Harry lifted his hand as if to cup his love's face stopping just short of actually touching "don't despair for a monster like me, I don't deserve to have your gaze on me. I didn't deserve what love you gave me, freaks don't get love... they never do" he dropped his hand with a tired sigh and closed his eyes once more content to drift off in the feeling of loneliness and bitter self-loathing. He felt the weight shift off him only to feel it take his hand in a tight grip as if that hand is the only way out of this crazy dream. Harry squeezed his hand in return and knew no more.

\----

Harry feels less weighted down when he opens his eyes next, he stares at the ceiling refusing to acknowledge the hand holding his and tries to make sense of his memories and thoughts. A sigh escapes his lips "Hel if this is another fucking dream just stop, the road to hell is paved with good intentions and all but this just makes you a bigger ass than your dad, and that's something cause Loki is like the ultimate ass, that's likely why my dad and the rest of the Marauders worshiped him, well that and pranking"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is _NOT_ more to this. Originally I planned this to be several chapters but this is the only other part I wrote and I feel that it pleasantly rounded things out granted that the first part works as a stand-alone. If someone would like to continue this all I ask is that you send me the link so I can read because I'm a massive nerd and read every spare chance I get

**Author's Note:**

> I'm debating writing more, I mean this came out of nowhere, heard a depressing song and bam now Harry is dying. I might do how they met, but then I'd have to give away who it is. Maybe. There are two clues to who it is. If someone can guess the movie universe this is crossed with and or who his soulmate is I will write more.  
> the clues:  
> 1\. A man who knew nothing of the wizarding world, but met gods and acted like it was an everyday occurrence  
> 2\. dark hair kept at a respectable length, a soft set of lips turned up in a cocky half-smile surrounded by short stubble
> 
> I will accept honest guesses towards getting more. I'd really just like someone to try, I'm already plotting in my head how to write it


End file.
